


Voice

by msbt



Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Alexandria Safe-Zone, M/M, Spoilers for Episode: s06e01
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-10-15
Updated: 2015-10-15
Packaged: 2018-04-26 12:28:47
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,307
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5004835
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/msbt/pseuds/msbt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>*spoilers for S06E01*<br/>Daryl's voice was a reminder that he was there with him. For him. Always.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Voice

It was like only that voice could break through the red haze of his rage.

"Rick."

Just like that, it stopped him, bringing him back to sanity, calm and firm. Rick had had no intent to execute this stupid Alexandrian in the first place, he had just needed to teach him who he had been trying to take the community from, but still, it was that voice that managed to snap Rick out of his rage, pulling his gaze and attention to him, like the time when he had called his name with a note of desperation, his voice cracked from the strangling. And when Rick looked to Daryl, he was all quiet and impassive, extending his hand to him matter-of-factly.

There was no distrust or accusation in Daryl's eyes. He didn't look away or drop his gaze like he often did when their eyes were locked; he just stared at his leader without any further word, and it calmed him and ignited something deep within him at the same time, in a way only the hunter could do.

"I'm good," sounded too cold, too stark but anyway Rick turned over the gun and handed it over to Daryl, eyes fixed on his. "I'm good."

Nodding, the hunter ejected its magazine to check how many rounds were left and slid it back into the handle before tucking the gun into his belt. Daryl was loyal, but not blind. He knew what needed to be done and simply did it, including holding his leader back from losing it and helping him keep his feet on the ground. He would jump through fire hoops for his ragtag group, his family. Not afraid to fight and get beaten, offering his own life to save theirs. And no matter how hard it was, no matter how harsh Rick's decision was, there was no doubt Daryl had his back. It gave him the reassurance and confidence that he could be a decisive leader and lead his people. The loyalty Daryl had for him was something Rick needed like he needed oxygen; without it, he would suffocate and collapse.

He gave this Carter guy one last chance to try to work with them and survive. His fear was understandable, he must have felt that Rick's presence was threatening and thought he had to retake the community. Rick wouldn't let it happen, though. He needed this place for his kids, his family, and the man whom he considered as a brother and cared for more than just a part of his family. And he knew someone like Carter was going to die soon enough, no matter what.

* * *

The night breeze was cold on his cheeks, stirring his curly hair. Clusters of clouds floated in the dark sky, the moon and stars barely visible. Rick was at the top of the porch steps, leaning against the post. His eyes were tracing the walls fortifying the community, sharp and wary. He felt on edge, too tense to lie down and sleep soundly. He had to make the plan work; one small mistake could mean the deaths of his people and destroy this safe zone. He couldn't lose anyone anymore. That would be the final straw.

He wasn't sure how long he was standing there when he heard the door open behind him. Looking over his shoulder with his hand on the gun, he saw Daryl coming out of the house, walking closer to him. Even in the darkness, the hunter looked exhausted, his gait heavy and devoid of his usual nimbleness. He had kept working with them, helping to build a wall to herd the quarry walkers away without getting a proper rest after the recruiting trip.

Before Rick said something, Daryl slumped down on the steps beside him, his arms hugging his bent knees loosely. A distant look on his face, his eyes looking straight ahead, not at Rick. There was a brief pause of silence until that voice of his whispered softly. "Can't sleep?"

Rick's gaze fell down on the man. "You?" He asked back, although he had already known the answer. Daryl looked on the verge of falling asleep, his eyelids drooping, light-colored eyelashes veiling his eyes. The way he blinked slowly and sleepily was endearing, making him look young somehow. Rick watched the soft wisps of his hair whipping in the wind and felt the urge to card his fingers through the dark strand, knowing how it would feel, but not daring to disturb his drowsy state.

"Was waitin' for ya in yer room." Daryl's voice slurred a bit, eyes still staring at nothing absently. His face was unreadable, no anger or irritation, merely looking too sleepy to think about anything. " _Our_ room." Rick corrected in a soft tone and shifted his gaze from the hunter back to the walls. "Sorry for making you wait, I just… needed some air."

In his peripheral vision he saw Daryl nod wordlessly, then a silence fell over them again. It was companionable, familiar to both of them, and reminded Rick of the old days when they had been alone staying up through the cold nights of Georgia. There had been those days when Rick had isolated himself from the group and no one had understood him, no one but Daryl. He wouldn't talk much, wouldn't try to make their strained leader open up either; he had just been there when Rick needed someone.

After a few minutes or so, Rick turned his eyes down to the other, feeling like he wanted to say a thank you to him, only to find Daryl nodding off, his head almost touching the post. It was quite rare to see the keen, vigilant hunter get this relaxed, and a small smile tugged on Rick's mouth. Whether it was his presence or this place that provided enough comfort and reassurance for him, Rick stayed still, cautious not to wake him up.

He watched as Daryl's head rested against the post, his eyes closed beneath the dark veil of his hair. It didn't take long before he suddenly sat up and shook his head, trying to chase away sleep, in a somehow adorable way. When Rick squatted down beside him Daryl flinched, wide eyes trained on Rick's in an instant.

"You should go back to bed." Rick stared into him, voice quiet, but making it clear that he was serious. Worrying his lip, Daryl looked away and rubbed his eyes with the heels of his hands like a stubborn kid trying to stay up late, a little too rough for Rick's liking.

"Daryl."

He didn't need to grab the hunter's wrist, he knew just one word was enough to stop him. He knew his voice had as much influence on the other as Daryl's on him.

His hands stopped moving as his head snapped up to look at Rick. Soon he averted his eyes and began biting at the edge of his thumb, mumbling. "Fine, but you go to bed too."

"You mean _our_ bed?"

"Yeah, whatever."

Rick smiled, pressing a chaste kiss to Daryl's sullen lips. They both knew tomorrow was going to be tough. Daryl would take on the deadliest job, leading hundreds of walkers away, and it had been Rick who had put him in charge of it. Because Daryl was the man he had immense trust in. There was no point worrying about the possibility of something terrible happening to him while they were apart, but still Rick couldn't help thinking about it. And if things would go south and Daryl wouldn't come back to him, Rick would jump into a herd of walkers, chop all their heads off, roar like an animal, never stop, until that voice would call his name again.

Daryl's voice was a reminder that he was there with him. For him. Always.


End file.
